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Maybe This Defines Me

I have been Mike’s girlfriend for longer in my life than not. I like it.

Maybe this defines me.

I have five kids, and none of them are babies. I like it. Babies aren’t so bad though. Especially when you color a mustache on their face with a marker. (I never did this, but a girl can dream).

Maybe this defines me.

I have kept a blog for seven years. I like it.

Maybe this defines me. I have never had money. Not really.

Maybe this defines me.

I have never truly been poor. Not even close.

Maybe this defines me. My best friend is a dude. Almost 17 years ago I asked him if he wanted to be my BFF, and he said, “I do.” So we are. Besties.

Maybe this defines me.

I don’t swear. I never really have. I have just always felt it was the easy road. The ignoramus road. The clearly-you-can’t-come-up-with-a-smarter-come-back road. And it just isn’t lady like. Unless you are in the bedroom.

Maybe this defines me.

I can memorize movie lines and tell you the name of any voice over and spout movie trivia that means nothing.

Maybe this defines me.

Maybe. But probably not.

Because the only thing that matters is that I am a sinner. Forgiven. Loved. God’s. Everything else is just icing on the cake.